Possession
by Lady Bastilla
Summary: Marethari visits Fenris in a dream and asks that he help Merrill through the grief of losing her clan. Can he put his past aside long enough to ensure her future? Fenris x Merrill, F!Hawke x Anders.
1. Prolog

**Possession**

**Disclaimer: **All characters, settings, etc. from Dragon Age belong to BioWare. "Vox" belongs to Sarah McLachlan.

**Author's Notes: **Welcome to _Possession_. Its been a long time since I last wrote something for this site, but I am quite excited about this story. Fenris and Merrill. They seem like the last two people in the world who would get together, don't they? I love a challenge, so lets see what happens.

**Summary: **After the events of A New Path Merrill is haunted by the death of Marethari and the deaths of her clan. Marethari visits Fenris in a dream and asks him to set things right. Tara Hawke is too busy helping Anders with the Mage Underground, while Aveline, Isabela and Varric weren't there. Will Fenris be able to put aside his own past and help Merrill move forward from hers? Or will their pain consume them both? Fenris x Merrill; F!Hawke x Anders. Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Prolog<strong>

_In the desert of my dreams,  
><em>_I saw you there_

Sarah McLachlan, " Vox "

* * *

><p>Fenris' gaze swept tthe cave, suspicion creeping into the pit of his gut. <em>I have been here before.<em> The thought came unbidden, daring him to put together the fragments of the puzzle that was feebly trying to form. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, irritated that there was one more thing that he was unable to remember.

" Greetings. I thank you for answering my call. "

_That voice..._ Instinct took over and he turned in the direction from which the sound had come. Sure enough, there she was. The Dalish Keeper. What had her name been... Marethari? Yes, No, Maybe? What really mattered was that he had watched the woman die three days ago. She had no business talking to him. No business being here at all.

" Don't thank me yet. " Fenris kept his gaze locked with hers. He made no move to strike, yet was prepared to do just that if the need arose. " What did you call me here for? "

" Merrill. " the Keeper's voice was soft, little more then a whisper. Despite the madness of this conversation, Fenris found himself a willing captive clinging to her every word. " She suffers greatly. Her grief is beyond the imagining of most people. "

" That surprises you? " Fenris folded his arms across his chest. " You said it yourself: she knew that her blood magic carried a heavy price. It's hard to feel sorry for her. "

" I can understand that you hate magic. " the Keeper's voice remained calm. There was the slightest hint of sadness in her ageless eyes, though, that made Fenris wonder if his words had been too harsh. " But there's no reason to hate Merrill. "

" Did I say that I did? "

" You don't have to. Have any of you been to see her since Sundermount? No? " the Keeper's too knowing gaze made Fenris feel like she was evaluating the weight of his soul. " Lady Hawke and her man have been no better. The blame is not yours alone to bare. "

" We've never been close. " The excuse sounded weak to Fenris, and the Keeper's deepening frown made it clear she agreed with him. Frustrated at himself for caring a fig for what she might think, he went on none the less. " Wait... _No one_ has gone? "

" No one. Hawke and her man are preoccupied with the plight of the mages, and with each other. No one else would know anything is wrong. " the Keeper's expression hinted at an underlying fierceness for a fleeting second before once again schooling itself into a pool of serenity. " Merrill has not left her house since the day your group returned to Kirkwall. "

" Why are you telling _me_ this? " Fenris began to pace as he spoke, " I'm no good with words at my best. And Merrill tends to bring out my worst. Varric or Isabela – Maker, even Aveline - would be far better choices. "

" I saw the look on your face, right before I died. The way you watched her fall to her knees. The way you wished to reach out to her. The regret for not knowing how. It showed in your eyes. " Marethari cleared the spac between them in three strides. Fenris tried not to squirm when she placed a hand on his shoulder, halting his restless pacing. " Go and speak to her. Please. That's all I ask of you. "

" And say what, exactly? " Fenris turned to face the Keeper, the markings on his body glowing in response to his growing annoyance. " There, there, Merrill. Its alright. You didn't turn into an abomination _this time_. "

The Keeper said nothing. There was no need. Her disgust was written clearly across her weather worn face. Her wordless rebuke made Fenris feel like a petulant child. When she did speak her voice maintained its composure. " Do what you must. To ask more would be folly. "

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><p>Fenris woke with a start, his heart racing and his body coated in a fine sheen of sweat. The silken sheets that covered the bed were instead tangled around his body and for a moment he fought against them like binds, old instincts kicking in hard at the feeling of being confined . As he became more fully aware of his surroundings he managed to untangle himself from the bedding and rose from the bed.<p>

Pulling back the thick red curtains that adorned a nearby window, he let his gaze take in the silhouette of high town's white stone buildings against the contrast of the night sky. For years he had watched the city through this window, and yet after all this time he had not tired of it. It was nice to be the master of his own domain. More importantly, to be the master of himself. He stayed here for the amusement of the former and to plot the certainty of the latter. If Danarius wanted his mansion back he was free to come and claim it.

From what he'd been told by Aveline, his mansion was in need of some massive repairs if he wanted to actually keep it. He frowned, his fingers tapping a random rhythm against the window as he pondered the ever growing mass of problems that were being dumped into his lap.

Perhaps he could strike two beasts with one blow, though? If he completed some of the renovating might he coax Merrill into staying with him until she properly recovered? An involuntary shutter went through him, the thought of sharing his space with anyone, much less a blood mage, causing mental alarm bells to go off.

Shaking his head in an attempt to calm his thoughts he made his way back to the bed and lay down. Flipping the pillow over so that it was cool against his skin, he shifted around trying to find a comfortable way to sleep. Going to see Merrill right now would likely have her mistake him for a Templar, and Fenris had no desire to take a Stone Fist spell to the face. _Tomorrow_, he thought as sleep began to claim him. He would make sure that Marethari's words had been nothing but a dream.

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><p><strong>End Notes:<strong> Was it only a dream? Is Merrill alright? How will Fenris get his home fixed? Can he convince Merrill to stay with him? Will he even want to? Find out as _Possession_ continues.


	2. Chapter 1

**Possession**

**Disclaimer: **Dragon Age and all associated characters, settings, etc. belong to Bioware. " You Are Loved (Don't Give Up) " is by Josh Groban.

**Author's Notes:** My apologies for the minor issues with formatting on Prolog. I am still getting use to how things have changed since I last wrote here. On another side note, I am looking for a beta for this. If you are interested, please contact me. Anyway, this chapter will no doubt bring big changes to Fenris & Merrill's lives. How will they fare? Read on and find out.

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: <strong>

_Don't give up,  
><em>_Its just the weight of the world,  
><em>_When you're heart's heavy,  
><em>_I will lift it for you._

Josh Groban, " You Are Loved (Don't Give Up) "

* * *

><p>" Gee, Elf. " Varric let out a low whistle, " You don't ask for much, do you? "<p>

Fenris sat across from his friend at a table at The Hanged Man, awaiting yes or no and hating the fact that he'd had to ask a favor in the first place. The truth was he could not afford the amount of work that the mansion needed. Varric, on the other hand, had a tidy sum from the deep roads expedition he and Hawke had been part of years ago. Careful investing and a natural-born Dwarven instinct for business had ensured that Varric's fortunate had done nothing but grow since.

Fenris had decided to go to the popular Lowtown hangout to have some lunch, and had hoped he might run into Merrill and save himself an awkward visit later. Instead he had found Varric and had decided to see about setting his plans into action.

" I would not ask a favor if it was not important. " Fenris barely managed to hold back a curse at the venom in his words. Maker's breath he was screwing this up.

" Tell you what, " Varric said, leaning forward and lowering his voice, " You tell me what has made you decide to become Fenris the Interior Decorator and I'll see what I can do. There's got to be one hell of a story here. "

_Why didn't I see this coming?_ Fenris fidgeted with the dice he was holding as he tried to gather his thoughts. " It's for Merrill – "

" Oh-ho, a love story! "

" Fenris? In love with Kitten? " Isabela dropped into a seat, setting down a mug of ale with a defiant thud that told Fenris that he was not going to be escaping The Hanged Man anytime soon. " Well go on. I want _all_ the juicy details. "

Isabela sat in her chair, for once stunned to the point of total since. It had been three days since the others had returned from Sundermount. How had it slipped their attention to tell anyone what had happened to Merrill up there? She wanted to stick a dagger in someone's neither regions. Instead, she took a slow calming breath, doing her best to remember that it was Fenris who was actually filling them in.

" You figured she was fine? " the disbelief in Varric's tone mirrored her own bewilderment at not having been told sooner. " She must be totally heartbroken. "

" We handled ourselves poorly. The demon succeed in stabbing Merrill. And Hawke's impatience led to us having to slay the entire camp. Pointless death is always a tragedy. "

" This? Coming from the man who – " Isabela stopped talking as Fenris rose one hand.

" I am a killer, yes. But the deaths always have a reason. "

" Let's get back to the topic at hand, shall we? " Varric took a bite of roast deer and Isabela wondered if he could possibly chew any slower as she waited for him to continue speaking. " I can see your reasoning for not wanting to leave Merrill to her own devices. Count me in. "

" Me, too. " Isabela added.

" What – " Fenris began to protest but she cut him off.

" I'm her friend, Fenris. I probably know her best among us all. " she turned her gaze from one man to the other, for once focusing on sounding sincere, as opposed to sexy, to get what she wanted. Shrugging slightly she flipped a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. " Besides, we need someone who will cheer her up. "

" Agreed. I don't think Merrill is in a state of mind to swoon over your brooding just yet. " Varric said with a chuckle.

" I'm not trying to get Merrill to – "

Varric cut Fenris off and Isabela fought hard to hold in her laughter at the expression that crossed his face. " Elf, you go and get Merrill. Isabela, go to Fenris' mansion and run a bath and put some food – "

" Do I look like a servant? "

" Only if you were working at the Blooming Rose. " Fenris said, causing Varric to laugh even harder. " But the point remains: you said you want to help. I can't be in two places at once. And I'm sure, being her _friend_, you would be more likely to know what Merrill likes then I would. "

" Points taken. " Isabela said, a sigh escaping her before a last thought dawned on her. " Just what, praytell, will _you_ be doing, Varric? "

" I'm going to find Aveline. I have to know just how much work the mansion needs. "

_Shit._ Isabela knew when she was beat, and this roll of the dice had not been a winning one. Reminding herself that this was for Merrill she got up and headed out the door. She had already decided Merrill was going to need more then dinner and a bath if she was to stay with Fenris. Too bad she did not know a shop in Kirkwall that sold a way to retain one's sanity.

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><p>The Alienage. Fenris had lived in Kirkwall for years, yet he had made a point of avoiding this section of Lowtown. There were several good reasons. The place had an uncanny way of reminding him of his days as a slave due to the impoverished appearance of its dwellings and the unspoken weight of oppression that hung in the air, causing its inhabitants to bow their heads a little lower then they should have. Anything that reminded him of his days in Tevinter had a tendency to make him want to break something; a rather expensive habit.<p>

Wrinkling his nose as he tried not to breathe in the mixture of dung, rotted cabbage and Maker knew what else, Fenris moved through the thin crowd swiftly. It took little time to find the door to Merrill's home and he opened the door and stepped inside, hoping this would keep the repugnant odor that clung to the air at bay.

" Hello? " he called out, not wanting to startle her. Merrill was not in the main room. As he looked around, trying to make his way through her home without snooping, he shook his head in disgust. Home? Bah. This was little more then a hovel. He hated the way that elves were forced to live: enslaved, impoverished or eternally on the run.

Opening the door that led to a room to the north, he stopped dead in his tracks as light from the main room illuminated what was otherwise shrouded in shadows. Merrill sat on the floor before the accursed mirror that had started this whole mess. Her back was to him and her head was bent low, resting against her knees. Her body trembled slightly as she rocked herself back and forth, a slight sound escaping her lips, somewhere between a sob and a whimper.

" Merrill? " Fenris knelt beside her, shaking her gently and trying to get a response – any response.

Silence.

_The mirror, of course._ The thought sent Fenris into action and he rose to his full height, the large sword worn on his back coming down on the evil thing and shattering it into fragmented pieces.

" Wh...what have you done? " Merrill stood, her body wobbling a little on legs that had to be cramped from sitting in such an uncomfortable position for any length of time. Her shocked expression sent a wave of relief through Fenris. Angry was better then broken, and that was how she'd looked only minutes ago.

" I made sure your Keeper did not die in vain. " Fenris said. She took a step away from him, the pain that reflected in her dark eyes making him wonder if he could have said it better. She looked to be in rough shape as it was: dark hair disheveled and greasy, eyes red rimmed from tears, and still wearing the same damned blood soaked things she'd had on when he'd last seen her.

" Why are you here? " Each word was loaded with the loathing she must have been harboring toward him these past seven years. A weaker man would have flinched, but of the many things Fenris was, weak was not one of them.

" You can hate me all you want, Merrill. " He moved with certainty, reaching her side and scooping her into his arms. She was weightless, her body small and fragile, her dark eyes far too large against the delicate features of her pale face. " But until I know you're alright, you're stuck with me. "

" What are you doing? " Her mouth was close to his ear, her voice shrill with panic as he carried her out the front door. " Put me down, Fenris. Now! "

He looked down at her, and despite the sympathy that had begun to swell inside him was unable to hold back a deep chuckle. " Remember who you are talking to, _witch_. "

Merrill wanted to scream. More then that, she wanted a spell that would summon her staff, so she could grasp it in both hands and throttle Fenris with it until he was little more then a bloodied pulp. How _dare_ he humiliate her like this? Since when did he give a damn what she did when they were not forced to endure each other's company while traveling with Hawke?

This was a bad dream. All of it. Marethari's death, having to slay her clan, and now being carried through the Alienage by Fenris like the spoils of a great war. No, forget a bad dream: it was a nightmare. No point in sugar coating it.

" It's alright, Merrill. " Fenris breath was warm and tickled her ear as he spoke. They passed The Hanged Man and began to climb a long winding stairwell that lead up into Hightown. " Isabela should be waiting for us when we get to my house. I think she mentioned cooking you some dinner. "

The mere thought of food made Merrill's stomach give a loud rumble, sending heat into her cheeks. Had she really gone this long and not thought to eat food? She tried to focus on the last few days but they felt like nothing but an endless blur, curled into a little ball in front of the alouvian as if it were a holy relic. Important? Yes. Worth starving for? No.

After taking yet another flight of stairs, Merrill found herself being carried into the estates district and then through the front door of Fenris' home. Only when the door was shut behind them with a light kick did she find her feet touching the thick maroon carpet of the entrance hall.

Isabela took a final look around the room, a smug grin crossing her face. It was perfect. Even if Merrill ended up thinking this whole thing was crazy, she'd have to admit the room was fabulous.

It had taken a great deal of effort for Isabela to remember who she was shopping for, but the results looked like they would pay off. The bed was now made with cream colored silken sheets, golden covered pillows and covered with a velvety blanket of the deepest forest green. On the vanity sat a variety of little bottles; Isabela had not known what Merrill wore for perfume, but whatever it was it was bound to be there. She had even succeeded in obtaining a few books that would hopefully amuse Merrill on the occasion that Fenris might get a little boring or annoying.

She heard the front door open and made her way to the top of the stairs to find Fenris setting Merrill on her feet. Isabela tried – and failed – to hold in a gasp of shock at her friend's worn appearance. " Kitten, are you alright? "

" Does she look 'all right' to you, Isabela? No? " Fenris' expression sent a shiver down Isabela's spine. _If looks could kill..._ " Tell me you did something to help. "

" I did something to help. " Isabela felt a sense of satisfaction at his sigh, but took hold of Merrill's arm and began to guide her up the stairs before an argument could break out. " Come on, Kitten. Fenris can stay here and sulk. You need a nice long soak. "

Fenris paced back and forth in the front hall, his gaze constantly making its way to the stairs that lead to the second floor. How long did it take to have a bath? At this rate Merrill had to have turned into a prune. He frowned, the image not to his liking.

" You're not doing that floor any favors, you know. " Anders' said. Fenris turned to face the mage, his muscles tensing. What was_ he_ doing here? Where was Hawke?

" What do you want, Anders? " Having Anders in his home did nothing for Fenris' mood, but he did his best to remain civil. The last thing he needed was Merrill coming down the stairs and finding the two of them arguing. " I'm busy. "

" So I've heard. " Anders said with a chuckle. He lifted a book and held it out to Fenris. After a moment's pause Fenris took it. " I must say, I never pictured you as a ... mage lover. "

Fenris glanced down at the book, doing his best to decipher the writing on the cover. It was moments like these that his inability to read frustrated him most. As Anders continued to poke fun, the book was nearly dropped. _Mage lover? Was Varric spreading that rediculous story already?_ " What? "

" I've heard you're going to have some company. " Anders began to turn toward the door as he spoke, and Fenris had to work hard not to cover the distance, spin him around and punch him in the face. This was quickly becoming a disaster. He and Merrill?_ Never!_ " Tara and I agree: its very sweet. Take care of her. "

_Leave my home before I_ take care_ of you._ The thought was there, begging to be said aloud. But instead Fenris found himself standing alone a moment later, the door closing behind Anders as he stepped outside.

Fenris gave up trying to guess what the book was and sat it down on a table. Above him he heard a door close and two pair of feet moving slowly toward the stairwell. _Finally._

" Fenris is complicated. " he could hear Isabela, her voice bubbling with laughter as she spoke. Instincts kicking in, he pressed himself against the wall, hoping to catch as much of their conversation as he could. " Dangerous? Absolutely. Yet despite what he says... How many times has he risked his ass to step between you and someone's blade? "

" But... "

" Fenris has spent his whole life fighting, Merrill. It would be easy for him to take a step to the left and let someone skewer you if he meant half of what comes out of his mouth.

" The pair reached the bottom of the stairs and he stepped toward them, catching them off guard. Merrill's mouth hung open and Isabela gave a startled jump. " Crap. I think he heard us. "

Merrill waited for the floor to swallow her whole, but it refused to do her bidding. The shoes that Isabela had chosen were pretty, even if they did feel a bit strange on her usually bare feet. She could feel heat creeping up her neck and into her cheeks. No doubt her skin now matched the red silk of her new robe. Disaster. That's what this was. And now Fenris knew how scared she was. _Lovely. He'll _never_ let that go._

" Merrill. " The way he spoke her name made her shiver. For a moment, she just stood there, unable to move. Paralyzed by embarrassment and scared of her current situation, she could do nothing as she felt two fingers brush against her skin. She blinked once, twice, as he gently titled her chin so that she was forced to look into his eyes. " You are safe here. "

_With me._ The words were not said, yet they did not have to be. Merrill felt herself drowning in the intensity of his gaze, the stark possessiveness that had somehow come over him. What was really going on here? What had brought this on? Still not sure whether to be flattered or afraid she struggled to clear her throat and calm her mind. Her mouth felt like a desert, her tongue heavy as she tried to speak. " Thank you. "

" Enough, already. " Isabela's sudden outburst brought Merrill fully back to the present. It said something for Fenris that she had forgotten that her friend was standing beside her for the last five minutes. With a gentle tug she was drawn away from him, the loss of his touch somehow robbing her of warmth. " You're going to make me gag and the food will be ruined. "

Food. The word alone gave her strength and as she took a slow breath of air fighting to not be swallowed whole by memories, by sorrow, by guilt. The rich scent of boiling stew made her stomach give an embarrassing growl of approval. When _had_ she last ate? She started to try and figure it out, gave a moment's thought to Marethari and gave up as a lump began to form in her throat.

_Just focus on now_. The thought came slowly and gently and she realized that it had actually been Fenris, talking about why he'd never worried about Elvish history, who had initially said it. The irony somehow warmed her and she smiled a sad smile, determined to keep putting one foot in front of the other. He had. He still did.

_The robe is from Tevinter._ Fenris clenched and unclenched his hands as he walked with Merrill and Isabela, sweat coating his palms at the memories that the simple red silk garment brought to the forefront. Hadriana had favored such clothes. He stole another glance at Merrill, who was clearly oblivious to the havoc she was putting him through. The robe was a bit too bold a shade for her, he decided. He liked how she looked far better in the more natural earth tones that she usually wore. Then again, the robe had likely been Isabela's idea – _she'd_ be the sort to choose red.

" _What_? " Merrill had stopped walking and Fenris mentally cursed himself for his stupidity. Of course she would notice this. " Am I wearing this wrong or something? Its the shoes, isn't it? Elves look silly in shoes. "

" No, Merrill. Fenris thinks you look just fine. " Isabela poked him hard in the back with her elbow as she spoke and he managed to hold back a grunt of discomfort. " Right, Fenris? "

" Yes. " Though he tried to let it go, though, his irritation at the robe – and even moreso at Isabela – would not leave him. " Merrill would make a_ lovely_ magister in those _fine_ Tevinter robes. "

" I'm an idiot. " Isabela's reddened cheeks gave Fenris a measure of satisfaction. " Merrill, I'm sorry. "

" I'm sure you were going for sexy. " Merrill's hands traced the golden design on the front of the robe and Fenris found himself following their movement. He turned away, hoping neither woman had noticed. " Not blood mage, let alone Tevinter. "

" Ouch. " Isabela's pout was short, as quickened her pace, leaving Fenris alone with a clearly embarrassed Merrill.

" Forget it, Merrill. Its only a robe. " Trying to draw her mind away from the morbid garment she wore, Fenris took her arm and began to gently guide her toward the dining room. " Lets eat the stew while its still hot. "

Merrill only nodded. Silently cursing Isabela's poorly chosen clothes and his poorly chosen words Fenris said nothing. _No point making a bad situation worse. I told the woman I would be terrible at this._

Isabela fumed as she put stew into three bowls, making sure that each was well filled. She had not eaten since lunch and was sure Fenris had likely done the same. Merrill, she was not so sure about. Either way, though, they could not expect her to eat three days worth of food in one sitting. Setting each bowl on the table with a defiant thud she went back into the kitchen and began to prepare drinks. No meal was complete without them. Strong ones, in this case.

She could hear Fenris and Merrill entering the dining room, watched him seat Merrill from the corner of her eye. They sat together, eating in what seemed companionable silence.

Merrill looked so exhausted. Hair could be washed and look freshly styled, but the thick bangs falling into the elf's dark eyes gave away the fact that she was only half there. Was she unable to sleep? Afraid to? As a mage, closing her eyes would cause Merrill to risk the fade. Unless...

Isabela gave a slight half sigh, pulling a pouch from the things she carried and sprinkling some herbs into one of the glasses of wine. According to Anders it would let Merrill rest safely. _You'd better be right, blondie. _

She put the three glasses on a tray, making sure she knew which she had added the herbs to, and then went to join them at the table. Passing out the glasses, she sat down to her own food.

" Your stew is quite good, Isabela. I didn't know you could cook. " Fenris said between bites.

Isabela rolled her eyes, no more fond of the memories that cooking and cleaning brought her then she asumed Merrill's robe likely brought him. Asshole. " I _was_ married once. "

" So? " Merrill's bowl was over half empty already, a thought that brightened Isabela's mood right away. " Among the dalish, everyone learns to cook. What would being married have to do with it? "

" Humans tend to be different. That's all I'll say. " Isabela said, a dark chuckle escaping her. She could see a scowl crossing Fenris' face at her comments. Giving him a slight smirk she went on. " Let me guess, Fenris. In Tevinter, slaves cook. "

" It seems the only thing they don't do is think. " Merrill's voice was soft, but her words were so sharp that they made Isabela choke on the sip of wine she had just taken. _Damn. Perhaps the silence hadn't been so friendly after all?_ She looked over at Fenris, expecting his gaze to be like icy daggers. Instead he had turned toward Merrill, as if waiting for her to finish her point. _Please, please have a point, Kitten._ " Fenris was too smart. That's why he is here. We need to quit talking about it like he never left. "

Isabela let out a breath she had not realized she'd been holding. Fenris went back to his food. Wanting to get this very awkward meal over, Isabela turned her focus to the wine. " Merrill, how are you enjoying your drink? Varric told me you liked that one. "

" Yes, this is the one we had last week. " Merrill took another sip of the drink, which Isabela noticed with a mixture of guilt and relief, was already half empty. " I don't know what it is about this food, though, but I am falling sort of drowsy. "

" I doubt you've slept well since Sundermount. " Fenris said.

" No, but... "

" I doubt you've eaten much, either. Maybe its just your body – " Fenris never got a chance to finish; everything happened in a flash. Merrill began to fall forward, Isabela managed to grab the bowl of stew so that she did not land in it face first, and Merrill's head hit the table with an all-too-loud thud. When Fenris looked at her, his eyes piercing her with their fierceness, Isabela felt her stomach lurch. _Maybe I should have warned him about this._ " What have you done? "

* * *

><p><strong>End Notes:<strong> What will happen to Isabela? Will Merrill be alright? Will Fenris and Merrill be able to live together without killing each other? Is Varric telling everyone that Fenris is in love? We shall see, as _Possession_ continues.


End file.
